


Give in to Love

by babs



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 06:50:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17544770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babs/pseuds/babs
Summary: After a mission gone bad, SG-1 needs to learn to let go.





	Give in to Love

"C'mon, c'mon," Daniel chanted under his breath. He could see the temple ahead, a vine covered building rising in the jungle organic and appearing as much living thing as man-made. "Jack, c'mon." 

Jack groaned under Daniel's grasp. "Can't..."

"You can," Daniel said, determined. He ignored the sting of sweat in his eyes. So close. So close. Jack's blood was sticky on his hands, on his face.

Not far. They could make it. He dragged a nearly unconscious Jack into the clearing and up the stone stairs. Wooden doors barred entrance into the temple. He searched for the words he was sure were there. Yes, yes.

"We claim sanctuary," Daniel called, his voice breaking halfway through the words. He stood hard-breathing, heard the sound of others in the brush. He lowered Jack towards the ground while he waited. Was it possible the temple was abandoned? Possible his words hadn't been heard? He took a deep breath suppressing the cough he felt building, got ready to lift Jack over his shoulder when there was a slow creaking.

"Sanctuary," Daniel repeated as the doors opened and a woman dressed in bright red robes appeared.

"Enter." Her voice was quiet and she beckoned for them to come forward.

"I need..." Daniel stepped over the threshold with Jack limp in his grasp. "My friends. I need to get my friends." Other people appeared dressed in similar robes. "Will you take care of him for me?"

Two men stepped forward, took Jack from his grasp. 

"Once you claim sanctuary, you are forbidden from leaving," the woman said.

Sam and Teal'c were out there—injured, waiting for him to return for them. "I need to get my friends. Bring them here. They're hurt."

"If you leave, you will not be able to enter again." The woman looked at him, her expression impassive. 

"My friends?"

"They will," she said. 

Daniel nodded. He took one step towards Jack, placed his hand on Jack's cheek. "I'm going for Sam and Teal'c. You stay safe here."

Jack's breath fluttered under his fingers, bare puffs. He hoped Jack had heard him. Three lives for the price of one—he had no choice.

* * * *

He'd avoided the heavily armed men more by luck he thought than skill. That or they'd concentrated their forces on the Stargate. There was no hope at the moment of going back for reinforcement—no, he had to get Sam and Teal'c to the temple. Teal'c stumbled along beside him while Daniel carried Sam over his shoulder. She was unconscious—had been since the first shot. But her pulse was strong and she wasn't bleeding heavily like Jack had been. Teal'c's symbiote was doing its best to heal him, but Teal'c needed a place to rest. Healing took time. 

"Almost there," Daniel said. He felt as if his body was going to give up although he was the only uninjured one of their party. Each breath felt harsher than the one before.

"O'Neill," Teal'c said or asked, Daniel couldn't be sure.

"He's safe," Daniel said and reached out to steady Teal'c as he stumbled yet again. "As you and Sam will be."

He saw the clearing—and once again heard the sound of the people hunting them. "Move," he said and urged Tea'c along. He pushed the Jaffa ahead of him. "Straight—the temple. Go!" He started running after Teal'c—the clearing offered safety—the hunters would not follow there.

They ran-weaving, bobbing, and made it to the temple steps.

"Sanctuary," Daniel called once more. "Sanctuary for my friends."

The doors opened and Daniel took a step forward with Sam. The two men who'd taken Jack from him blocked his entrance.

"You are forbidden."

"My friends," Daniel pleaded. "My friends." He gestured to Teal'c.

"They are welcome to claim sanctuary," the woman in red said as she appeared from behind the tallest of the two men.

Daniel nodded. He'd known this would happen, had prepared for it. He handed Sam to a still dazed Teal'c. "Take her," he ordered. "Keep her safe."

"DanielJackson?" Teal'c asked even as he took the burden.

"I can't..." Daniel shook his head. "You'll be safe inside."

"You must join us," Teal'c said even as he swayed with Sam on his shoulder.

"Go," Daniel told him. He tried to swallow with a mouth and throat gone dry. "I'll get help. Jack..." He trailed off. He didn't even know if Jack was still alive.

The woman, priestess Daniel wondered, nodded. "Your companion yet survives." She frowned. "Will you enter?" Her words directed to Teal'c.

Teal'c looked at Daniel, clearly torn. 

"Sam needs their help," Daniel said. "They won't enter the clearing. Go." He pushed Teal'c and Sam through the doorway and stood stock still as the doors closed with finality.

He peered into the wild forest beyond the clearing. The others were still out there—armed soldiers in a civil war SG1 had inadvertently stumbled into the midst. He knew he needed to get to the Gate—get help but for the moment, he needed to rest. Daniel slumped against the wooden doors—hopefully that wasn't forbidden. He fumbled for his canteen, took a sip of water, dug in a pocket for a power bar and waited.

* * * *

The sound of weapons fire was muffled in the innermost rooms of the temple. Teal'c stood as the barrage finally ended after what he estimated had been most of the day.

MajorCarter held her head as if the sound made her head ache. She hunched over a basin and retched yet again. Concussion, Teal'c diagnosed. O'Neill lay on a pallet nearby along with some other injured natives who'd also sought sanctuary. One of the red-robed inhabitants of the temple knelt by his side, changing a blood soaked dressing. They needed to return to the SGC—O'Neill was alive but he was in need of more advanced medical care than could be given in these conditions. For now, though, his condition was stable. 

As for his own state of health, his symbiote had done its job and healed the wounds inflicted by the native weapons. But DanielJackson—DanielJackson was out there and alone and in danger. He should have insisted the temple guards allow his teammate access—should have grabbed DanielJackson's arm and hauled him in through the doors or alternatively resisted DanielJackson's push—who knew the man was so deceptively strong? There was no time now though for regret, only time for needed action.

"MajorCarter," Teal'c pitched his voice low, not wanting to cause even more distress to her. "I must assist DanielJackson in retrieving help from the SGC."

She looked at him, squinted. "I'll hel..." She bent over the basin again. 

"You will remain here," he told her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Colonel O'Neill..." she said.

"He needs medical assistance," Teal'c told her. "DanielJackson and I will return for both of you."

He made his way to O'Neill's side. The red-robed guard shook his head as he rose. "We have made him comfortable. I'm afraid that's all we can do for him."

Teal'c nodded. "I understand." He waited until the man left to administer aid to another injured person and then knelt. "O'Neill."

To his surprise, O'Neill opened his eyes. "Teal'c..." his voice was a mere whisper.

"I am going to assist DanielJackson in obtaining reinforcements," Teal'c told him.

"Daniel? Where's Daniel?" O'Neill's gaze slipped from Teal'c, searching for someone not there. 

"He is getting help," Teal'c said, hoping the simple explanation got through O'Neill's confusion.

"Help him," O'Neill said, his grip surprisingly strong on Teal'c's forearm, but the burst of energy was short-lived and his hand fell away as he lost his battle to maintain consciousness.

"I will make sure he is safe," Teal'c promised before rising. 

* * * *

There was the stench of the aftermath of battle—the smell of death and decay. Bodies littered the forest floor but there was only the sound of night birds and insects. Teal'c made his way with caution—the Stargate was perhaps an hour and a half journey, although in the dark it would take longer. He glanced up at the sky—clouds covered the double moons of this world, filtering the light. 

It grew colder as Teal'c made his slow, steady progress. There was no sign of any other SGC teams nor of DanielJackson. Teal'c fought down any sense of alarm.  
Worry , fear-either emotion would only serve to hinder him. It appeared the "winning" side had abandoned the battleground. He was sure DanielJackson would have more of an explanation of what had occurred.

The Stargate was nearby. Just like the temple, the Stargate was in a clearing that appeared to be a no-man's land—and in that clearing slumped against the DHD was a familiar figure

Teal'c ran towards him, on his knees beside DanielJackson before he could even think of it. He put out a hand, afraid that he would not feel a pulse. His friend's skin was chilled against his fingers, and blood stained his jacket, his pants. His hands lay palm up on the soil, fingers open and still. There was a flutter under Teal'c's fingers, the pulse far more rapid than it should be and as he calmed his own breathing, he could hear DanielJackson's struggle for each breath.

"T..." 

Teal'c looked up in surprise at the sound. DanielJackson's eyes were open. Blood stained the skin around his lips.

"DanielJackson."

"Did...n...home." Each word was a struggle.

"I know, my friend. I will get you home." Tea'c let his fingers rest against Daniel's cheek.

"Jack."

"We will return for him and MajorCarter," Teal'c promised.

DanielJackson appeared to look beyond him, his eyes losing focus. His lips turned up in a small smile, and his breath came out in a quiet sigh.

No. No. This would not be the outcome. Teal'c dialed Earth, hoisted DanielJackson over his shoulder and stepped through the Gate.

* * * *

General Hammond motioned for Doctor Fraiser to sit. She looked exhausted—and he thought once again how blessed he was to have such dedicated people under his command. It had been nearly fourteen hours since Teal'c had come through the Stargate with an unconscious Doctor Jackson over his shoulder, eight since SG2 had come through with Major Carter and Colonel O'Neill. The medical staff had been working on all three ever since.

"How are they?" Hammond asked. They were alive—he knew that much and thank the Lord above for small miracles.

"Teal'c's symbiote has fully healed him. He is in his quarters doing kel-no-reem. Major Carter has a concussion and a laceration which required 14 stitches. We have her under observation." She rubbed at her forehead before placing her hands on the desk and leaning slightly forward. "Colonel O'Neill is stable. The projectiles used were designed to open when they entered a body." She spread her fingers from a fist to a star pattern, and Hammond winced in understanding. "Luckily both projectiles exited his body. He will need physical therapy for his shoulder. The wound on his side didn't hit any vital organs, but he's going to be in pain for awhile due to muscle damage. There was blood loss but he's responded well to the transfusions." 

"Recovery?"

"Full. With time," she reported. She looked down at her hands with a sober expression. 

"Doctor Jackson?" Hammond knew how bad the young man had looked when Teal'c had deposited him on the Gateroom floor—he'd seen the frantic rush to save his life.

"He's critical, sir," Fraiser said. " He was in shock when Teal'c brought him through the Stargate. He was hit twice. One projectile went through his flank and exited. The other projectile was lodged in his upper back." Her hand indicated an upward projectory. "His left lung collapsed and we had to remove some of his large intestine along with his spleen." 

"And..." Hammond began. There was a part of him that didn't want to know.

"We don't know, sir. He's lost a lot of blood and he's not stable," Fraiser said. "Right now, our efforts are focused on keeping him alive for the next twenty four hours. We're having difficulty with maintaining his oxygen levels and are keeping an eye on the internal injuries. It appears there was some sort of substance on the projectiles that accelerated bleeding and prevented clotting. We've removed shrapnel as it appears when the devices remain in the body, they continue to open and break apart."

"You and your team have my full confidence, Doctor Fraiser," Hammond told her. His voice softened. "Thank you."

She nodded and stood, put a hand out to stop a wobble.

"Get some rest, Doctor," Hammond said and held up a hand when she opened her mouth. "That is not a request. It's an order."

"Yes, sir," she said and left.

For his part, General Hammond put his head in his hands and prayed for the people under his command.

* * * *

"How's Daniel?" Jack asked Teal'c as he stirred the oatmeal on his breakfast tray. It had been two days since he'd awoken in the SGC infirmary in pain and confused.

"His condition remains critical, O'Neill," Teal'c said. "He has not regained consciousness."

Jack shifted and then winced at the resulting pain in his shoulder. He couldn't even beg Fraiser to let him see Daniel—she'd had the other man transferred to the Academy Hospital early yesterday morning.

"What about Carter?" Jack pushed the oatmeal away, his stomach rebelling at the thought of food. 

"She is recovering. DoctorFraiser said headaches are to be expected for the foreseeable future and she is under orders to not use her computer for the next two weeks."

"I'll bet she just loves that," Jack said.

"She does not, O'Neill," Teal'c said. "She is most distressed. She said that she needs something to keep her mind occupied."

Jack looked at Teal'c. "It's not your fault, you know."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "But you believe it is yours."

He would not look away, could not look away. "I'm in charge. It's my duty to take care of my team, to anticipate..."

"What happened on P4Y-332 could not have been anticipated. There was no sign of battle when the MALP sent back images. There was no indication of any hostilities among the peoples of that world," Teal'c countered. "Your insistence on trying to change the past will not, in fact, change it."

"Do you think Doc will let us see him?" Jack asked. 

"I believe she would say our presence will aid him; however, I would suggest you begin your recovery by eating the oatmeal the infirmary staff has provided. One cannot recover without proper nutrition," Teal'c said and then stood at attention.

Jack scowled at him and pulled the tray back. He stuffed a spoonful of oatmeal in his mouth and thought of Daniel lying alone in the ICU of the Academy Hospital, needing SG1 with him.

* * * *

Janet stood by Daniel's bed and studied the monitors. She wasn't totally happy with the numbers but at the moment she'd take what she could get.

"You need to stop scaring us, Doctor Jackson," she said as she touched the back of his hand, still a bit too warm but better than it had been hours ago. "But you've come through the operation just fine. We found the source of the infection." She glanced at the monitors once more. "Colonel O'Neill, Teal'c, and Sam have been cleared to visit you tomorrow. So we need you to rest until then. Sarah and Jason will be your nurses tonight. They said you've been giving them a bit of trouble trying to pull out some of your IVs. You need them for now—they're in to help you. So no more, okay?" She adjusted an IV line, rested her hand on his forehead. "I'm going to be here tonight as will Doctor Warner. One of us will be back to check on you in a half hour."

She smiled at Jason Hennessy as he came to Daniel's side. He looked at the monitors and smiled back at her. 

"Looks like his numbers are improving," he said. 

Janet nodded. "Jason's here, Daniel," she said. "Don't give him any trouble."

"You're my best patient," Jason said as he turned to Daniel. "Let's make sure you're comfortable, okay?" 

She walked away, secure in the knowledge Daniel was in good hands. Dave Warner was at the nurses station, typing in a laptop.

"Hey, Jan," he said. He looked tired, Janet thought. Older. She was pretty sure she had a few more gray hairs than she'd had a week ago.

"Good work in there," she told him. "You and Doctor Jensen."

"I think we got it all," he said. "Jensen's still on call—she went for some food." He shook his head. "Hopefully the shrapnel was the cause of the infection." He tapped his fingers on the counter. "What has Jimenez said about the swelling?"

Janet crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly cold. "Not good. He's still worried that there isn't any response." She felt pressure at her eyes and blinked a few times. She would not cry. She would not. "What about Lissa's and your handiwork?"

Dave gave a small smile. "His kidney function should start improving now, and we should be able to reverse the colostomy in time." He glanced at the laptop before looking back at her. "I think he's gonna pull through."

Janet nodded. She knew as well as Warner and the other doctors did that the hard part of Daniel's recovery lay ahead—and she wanted to make sure his team was willing to stand by his side.

 

* * * *

He could hear Jack talking although the words weren't making any sense. He'd been sick—or maybe hurt, although he didn't seem to be in any pain. There were flashes of other people in his mind. Janet, another doctor, Doctor Warner, a man with a quiet voice telling him no when he touched his face, someone wiping his face with a warm cloth. He wanted to open his eyes but they felt so heavy. Had he been sleeping long? It was as if his whole body was asleep.

There was another voice—higher, softer. Sam, he thought. She'd been...Jack had been...they were hurt. He'd gone for help, telling Teal'c to remain behind, to take care of them. Teal'c. Where was Teal'c? He relaxed as he heard a much lower voice. He'd been hit by some of the soldiers' weapons. So close—he was so close to the Gate and he couldn't quite make it. 

"Calm down, Daniel." A hand pressed down on his arm. "You're at the Academy Hospital."

Jack. He tried to make his mouth form the name. 

"I know," Jack said. "Carter, Teal'c, and I have to go now. Fraiser said we could only have ten minutes."

He didn't want them to go. Stay, he thought he said. Fingers brushed his cheek, wet.

"Don't cry. We'll be back soon. Just rest."

There was another voice then, although he wasn't quite sure who it was. "Let's see about getting you a bit more comfortable, Doctor Jackson."

He wanted Jack and Sam and Teal'c. He moved his arm, made contact with someone who made a small sound of distress. 

"Can you open your eyes for me, Doctor Jackson?" 

He thought he did. The person continued, "Squeeze my hand." There was pressure in his right hand and he did his best to close his fingers around it. He couldn't be sure if he succeeded. The words were repeated except this time the pressure was in his left? He hurt-he wanted to tell someone that but it felt too hard.

"Open your eyes," the person said, more sharply this time. 

Daniel blinked and saw only a blur before he let his eyes close again. 

"...your name?" 

The words were jumbling again, fading out, and he wanted to rest. Jack had told him to so he would.

* * * *

"How is Doctor Jackson doing?" General Hammond asked. 

Janet looked around the briefing table, assessing the other members of SG-1. Colonel O'Neill was paler than she liked although she admitted that might be due to his first physical therapy session. She was pretty sure Sam had a headache—the skin around her eyes looked tight. Teal'c appeared physically normal but his face was nearly expressionless, a fact that worried her.

"The colostomy is working as expected and his kidney function has improved. We've been able to remove the chest tube and his oxygen is at an acceptable level." She looked at all of them—her expression neutral. They were going to want more, answers she couldn't yet give them.

"His back?" Colonel O'Neill said. "What's the news on that?"

Janet kept the sigh she wanted to give to herself. "The wound is healing. Slowly."

"When will you have an answer, DoctorFraiser?" Teal'c asked. 

"I don't know," Janet said. "I wish I could tell you, all of you, what will happen, how his recovery will go, but we are dealing with alien technology, alien weapons."

Colonel O'Neill met her gaze with his own, his face bleak. "Does Daniel know?"

"He's aware," Janet said. She didn't tell them of her concern that she felt Daniel was not out of the woods yet. 

"What happens now, Doctor Fraiser?" General Hammond asked.

 

An explosive sigh came from Colonel O'Neill. "Can we...we can see him again, right?"

"Of course, sir," Janet said. "I think the continuing support of SG-1 is vital to Doctor Jackson's recovery."

And she thought, if worse came to worse, Doctor Jackson would need all the love and support his team could give him.

* * * *

Jack looked across the therapy room as Captain Lowemann stretched his shoulder. Daniel lay on a table, a therapist bending and moving his left leg. He still looked so weak, Jack thought. And tired. Even flat on his back on a table, Daniel looked exhausted. The therapist bent over and said something and Jack saw Daniel strain to move, only to shake his head.

Damn, damn, and more damn. He knew Fraiser and the other doctors were worried. The swelling around Daniel's spinal cord was still not going down and it seemed for every step forward, there were two steps back. They moved to Daniel's arms and he was able to lift his right a few inches off the table while the left remained unmoving.

Lowemann said something and Jack turned his attention back to him and welcomed the pain.

* * * *

Daniel was tired. Tired of everything. He was working so hard to overcome the aftermath of P4Y-332. He still had nightmares of his desperate bid to save the lives of his teammates. But he got them back. Sam and Jack and Teal'c were all safe. 

"Come on, Doctor Jackson, let's try again." Colonel Denning motioned to Daniel's tray.

Daniel looked at the mashed potatoes, now growing cold. He sighed and turned his right hand, braced and with a spoon attached with velcro. He pushed and filled the spoon and managed to lift his arm a scant two inches. Colonel Denning supported his hand and arm the rest of the way and he managed to get one spoonful in his mouth.

Was this to be his life? He was doing everything the doctors and therapists said—working hard. Doctor Jimenez even said there was no actual damage to his spinal cord—the swelling just would not go down despite every thing they were trying. He could even feel after a fashion. Most of the time he had an overall sensation of pins and needles, but no matter how much he willed it, his body would not wake up.

"One more," Denning said, annoyingly cheerful. She lowered his arm and he turned his hand once more—the spoon feeling as if it weighed a hundred pounds. He felt himself slipping sideways and heard Denning calling his name until everything went black.

* * * *

Jack walked more quickly when he saw a bed being wheeled out of Daniel's room. 

"I want X-rays stat." Fraiser barked out. "And get me Warner, Jimenez, and Jensen scrubbed for surgery. Tell them we've got something going on again. He's hemorrhaging."

He got close enough to see a nurse pumping air into Daniel's lungs, and heard Fraiser call clear. Everyone stepped back while she put paddles to Daniel's chest. His body bucked and the nurse resumed her job as the team took off at a run.

"What? What the hell?" 

He stood in the hall, the chess set in his hands forgotten as he watched Daniel being rushed down the hall.

* * * * 

"We're going to figure this out, Jan," Dion Jimenez said. He looked at the monitors. "His pressure is stable. Low but stable."

She scanned the monitors and then looked at Daniel, resting her fingers against his lax hand. They'd had to put him on a vent, Warner opting for a trach. "I need to talk to General Hammond."

"You want me to do it?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm medical head." She squeezed Daniel's hand. "Stay with us, Daniel."

* * * *

General Hammond was in her office along with Jack, Sam, and Teal'c. 

"Do you have a problem with them being here?" General Hammond asked. "Colonel O'Neill arrived when Doctor Jackson had his incident. He called me."

Jack got up, pulled a chair over for Janet. For once he was quiet and patient.

She sat down and looked at them. "We're trying to figure out what's going on with Daniel. He hemorrhaged internally. We found some more shrapnel from the projectile, but it hadn't shown up on any scans. Before he lost consciousness, he showed no signs of distress."

"How is he doing now?" General Hammond asked.

"He was in hypovolemic shock when we got him in the OR," she said. "We were able to stabilize him for now."

"For now?" Jack asked. "This could happen again?"

Janet nodded. "We're going to do our best to make sure it doesn't."

"May we..." Jack gestured towards the door.

"Sir," Janet took a deep breath. "Daniel is in a coma. At this point, he's not breathing on his own."

Jack's breath came out in a whoosh and Sam reached over to Teal'c.

"What can we do?"Sam asked. "There has to be something."

The desperation in her voice tore at Janet's heart and then she cursed herself for not thinking of it earlier. "We need one of those weapons from the planet. We need to see how they work—what the projectiles do. The one we removed from Daniel's back was in pieces." She thought of the painstaking work the pathologists had done. "Every piece was there after we went in when he had the infection. There shouldn't be any more."

"But there is," Teal'c said. "We will retrieve a weapon for you." He looked at General Hammond.

"Doctor Fraiser?" Hammond asked her.

"Sir, if we can't figure out how the weapon worked, I don't think Daniel will survive."

General Hammond nodded. "Teal'c—I want you to take SG-2 and SG-3. No, Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter—you are not going. Neither of you is at one hundred percent."

"And if General Hammond had said yes, I would have said no," Janet told them, and then she made a decision that she hoped would help Daniel hang on. "You and Sam may sit with Daniel."

* * * *

Jack had no idea what all the monitors were telling the nurses, not even after five days. Five days with no change that Jack could see. Oh the doctors said his numbers were better—his blood pressure wasn't as low, his heart appeared to be undamaged, but damn it, Daniel was still in a coma and as far as Jack was concerned, that was worrying. 

It was strange seeing Daniel still—even stranger hearing Daniel being quiet. Jack had grown used to the sound of the vent and the occasional alarms that went off but he wasn't used to a Daniel who didn't move, didn't open his eyes.

He leaned forward. "Teal'c said he and 2 and 3 didn't run into any trouble. They found two of those projectiles in a body." Jack didn't bother to describe the body—weeks worth of decay were nausea inducing even now. "And our friends at the temple or whatever it was had a stash of the weapons taken from the soldiers that were brought there for sanctuary." He watched Daniel's slack face, placed his hand on Daniel's chest that rose and fell regularly.

"Carter and her team are working on figuring things out. And Fraiser has even more people doing tests. Me and Teal'c? We're gonna keep you company while they do all the hard work. You know, Fraiser brought you back to the SGC? Said with all this alien stuff it'd be better for you to be here."

"It'd be nice if you gave us a sign you're in there." Jack sighed. "So let's do a crossword puzzle." He picked up his book and said, "We're on twelve down. Five letters..."

* * * * 

Colonel O'Neill had finally been persuaded to leave for a night's rest and Janet stood at Daniel's side studying the monitors with Dave Warner. 

"Those numbers are looking better than yesterday," Dave said. 

Janet nodded. "His temp's up though. 101.3. We're keeping an eye on that."

"Daniel," Dave leaned over the bed and rubbed Daniel's chest. "Can you open your eyes?" He rubbed harder. "C'mon. Open your eyes."

Janet shook her head as Dave continued his attempts to rouse Daniel. She made a mental note to have another brain scan done in the morning. 

"Daniel," she said after Dave stopped and left. "we're working on finding an answer. You keep fighting." She motioned for Jason, the night nurse to follow her to the door. "I want you to keep an eye on his temp. I'm putting in an order for respiratory therapy to check him every two hours."

"Pneumonia?" Jason asked.

"It's a concern. Either that or an infection we're not finding."

"Got it, Doctor Fraiser. We'll call if there's any change." He smiled. "We're all pulling for him."

Janet patted his arm. "I know." She yawned and headed towards an on-base bunk room.

* * * *

"Damn it, Daniel Jackson, we are not doing this again," Janet said as she performed chest compressions while her team surrounded his bed. "I forbid you to leave us."

Jimenez pulled her back, took over the compressions and she saw Warner preparing a syringe. She looked at the monitors, calculating and calling orders 

They were losing him, Janet knew. He was going to die and they weren't going to be able to ever figure out why. She lost track of time—concentrated only on the man before her and the fight.

"Call it," she said and looked at the clock. The battle had been lost despite all their efforts to save him. "Time of death Twenty three ten." She ripped off her gloves, looked at the others who'd fought with her to save his life. "I'm sorry." She went to the wall, sank down, and didn't give a damn that her staff saw her cry. They had to clean him up---let SG-1 say goodbye, get him to the morgue. Damn, damn, and damn.

"Call Elias Canning in," Dave Warner said. "Priority on this autopsy."

* * * *

Elias Canning got called in to the Mountain at oh two hundred. He'd always liked Doctor Jackson and even though others may have thought his job macabre, he often believed that his job as a pathologist was the one last act of kindness he could do for so many who served the SGC. He was good at his job, one of the best, but then again, the best was what the SGC wanted. It took him just over an hour and a half to get to the mountain, and then another half hour to read Doctor Jackson's chart, and yet another hour to prepare the room for an autopsy of a man who had died from an alien weapon that no one quite understood. His assistant, Micky Burgess, helped him into his isolation suit, zipping it up as he'd done for her. They walked into the morgue where he knew Doctor Jackson's body awaited him. Micky opened the cooler and wheeled the gurney with Doctor Jackson to autopsy table one while Elias turned on the recorder.

"Time of death, twenty three ten. 12 December," Elias said. "Current time 0500. Autopsy on Doctor Daniel Ballard Jackson. Age thirty seven. Height 183 centimeters." He and Micky hooked the rubber sheet to the scale before transferring the body to the table. "Weight 72 kilograms." Micky and he began their exam with the ease of long practice. He'd read the chart, knew Doctor Jackson had been injured off-world over six weeks ago and had been in a coma for the past seven days. What he didn't know yet was why he'd died. He was doing this for Doctor Jackson as much as anyone who still lived so that his death would not be in vain.

Despite the cold temperature in the morgue, Elias was sweating under his isolation suit and he could see Micky was doing the same. They finished the external exam noting the extensive bruising from the chest compressions and Micky wheeled over the table with Elias's tools.

Elias was a scientist and believed in rational thought, but he always said a little prayer before he started his internal exam. A prayer for the dead he'd learned from his grandmother. He turned to pick up the thermometers and heard Micky gasp. 

"El?"

"Micky? You okay?" She was the best assistant he had, always calm and steady, but even Elias had to admit this exam was hard on both of them. Daniel Jackson had always been the guy who treated everyone at the SGC as important.

"I think..." she pointed. "I swore...never mind."

Elias shrugged. Everyone had a moment when they thought they saw a dead body breathing or a flicker of life. The fact that it was someone they cared about it didn't make it easier. Maybe made them hope even more.

 

"Help me turn him on his side," Elias told her. "I want to get the probe in."

"That's odd," he said. "Double check time of death for me, please. I've got him."

"Twenty three ten," Micky confirmed. "No livor mortis?"

"Could be from whatever killed him," Elias said. The probe beeped and a mechanical voice reported, "Temperature 34 degrees."

"That can't be right," Micky said. "Want the other one?"

Elias nodded. Something wasn't right. He inserted the new probe. 

"34 degrees," he said when the second confirmed the first. They moved him to his back again, and Elias grabbed a flashlight. "Let's just see." Daniel's eyelid opened easily—something else that shouldn't have been possible considering the time of death, flashed the light and watched the pupil constrict. 

"You wanna double check?" he asked Micky. She did the same with the other eye.

"Holy fuck," Micky said. "Is he--"

"Call Doctor Fraiser and tell her to get down here with help ASAP," Elias said. He scrambled away from Doctor Jackson and grabbed a clean sheet to cover him. No blankets—was he going to have to put in an order for some? This can't be happening, he thought, his brain racing.

"Doctor Jackson," Elias said. "You in there?" 

Shit, shit, shit. He'd read the damn report, should have remembered. "Get me some tubing," he called to Micky. "He had a trach."

Micky slapped it into his hand and he inserted it and leaned close.

He motioned for Micky to do the same.

"He's alive," Micky whispered. "How?"

"I have no idea," Elias said and thought he might just pass out.

* * * *

"Carter," Jack said. "Give it up."

"I can't, sir," she said. She turned around, her face red and blotchy and her eyes swollen. "Maybe we didn't find the answer while he was still alive, but I need to know."

"It can wait," Jack said. His throat hurt. He watched as she fired another projectile into ballistic gel. "He's beyond our help now."

She ignored him and fired another shot."I know. I know—do you think I don't?"

Teal'c took the weapon from her. "We all are mourning DanielJackson's death."

Sam went to the block of gel. "They break apart just like Janet said, but look at this one." She walked to another block. "Look at it," she repeated when Jack ignored her.  
"The pieces splintered." She pulled out a table with something on it. "This was the first one we tried and holy Hannah..."

 

He didn't want to look, but he knew Carter. This was her way of trying to cope. "What am I looking at?"

"We wanted to see what would happen when a projectile was in flesh," she said. The pig carcass was flayed open. "We've been keeping it in the freezer." 

Jack looked. Tiny splinters of metal, or whatever the substance was were rising to the surface and combining into a black mass. 

Carter grabbed a beaker, caught the mass, and capped it.

"What the hell is that?" Jack demanded.

"I have no idea," Carter said. "Teal'c? Did you ever see anything like this?"

Teal'c looked at the black ooze. "I have not."

"I need to tell Janet," Sam said. "Daniel—the autopsy." She took off from the lab in a run.

Fuck, Jack thought and followed her.

 

* * * * 

"What is that?" Micky asked as Elias caught the black substance that was coming from Doctor Jackson's nose in a container. 

"I don't know," he said. "Where's Fraiser? Meet her and tell her to suit up—possible biohazard."

Micky nodded and left. Elias looked around for something—a towel, a rag to cover Doctor Jackson's eyes. If the man woke up, he didn't want him to realize he was in the morgue.

"I'm a pathologist—I'm not used to dealing with the living," he thought. He patted Doctor Jackson's arm although he wasn't sure if he was aware. But for now, at least, the man was breathing and warm.

* * * *

"How's he doing tonight?" Jack asked Jason as he went into Daniel's room. 

Jason looked up from washing Daniel's face. "He's been a bit restless. But that's good, right, Daniel?" He wiped Daniel's face with a towel and smiled as Daniel raised an arm. "Yeah, I know. It feels good."

"I just thought---" Jack said.

Jason caught Daniel's hand and squeezed it. "He's breathing on his own again. And he's active."

"Just not awake," Jack said. He pulled a chair next to Daniel's bed. 

"Not yet," Jason said. "But he's getting there." Jason gathered up his supplies. "I'll be back in a half hour, Colonel O'Neill. If you need anything, if Daniel--"

"Got it." Jack touched the back of Daniel's hand. He'd thought, maybe they all had, that Daniel would simply wake up after whatever that alien weapon had done. Still, Daniel wasn't dead. Still not awake but not dead, and definitely showing signs he was in there somewhere. Fraiser had talked about some sort of brain scan they'd done that showed Daniel's brain metabolism and that it predicted he would awaken. The only problem now was when and if there'd been damage. 

Daniel pulled his hand away, curled it on his chest. He kicked a leg and turned his head. 

"So, Daniel, Carter still hasn't quite figured out what went on. You know her, she loves all that analyzing stuff. Me, I'm a simple guy. But I wanted to tell you, I've got to go away for a few days. Me, Carter, Teal'c. We'll be back soon though and you'll have plenty of company." He grabbed Daniel's hand when Daniel started to tug at the feeding tube. "Nope. Not that. You need that." He kept his hand over Daniel's while he opened a book. "How about we do some reading?"

Daniel grimaced. 

"Oh c'mon. You know you'll love it." 

* * * * 

"What's your prognosis?" General Hammond asked Doctor Fraiser.

"The surgery to reverse the colostomy went well," she said as they spoke outside Daniel's room.

"It's been a week since---" 

"Yes and Doctor Jimenez has determined Daniel is in a minimally conscious state." She looked at a chart. "Sir, at this point, our testing indicates Daniel will most likely awaken. We can't predict when though."

"What's your recommendation? Is the SGC the best place for him to be?"

"Surprisingly enough, I'm recommending he stay here." She held up a finger. "There's stimulation here, it's familiar, and currently, we're able to provide for him. I'm confident that, for now, this is the best place."

Hammond nodded and motioned to the door. "So it's okay if I visit?" 

Fraiser nodded and smiled. "With SG-1 off-world, I think Daniel would be happy for a visitor."

General Hammond sat down beside Daniel's bed. The sheet was askew and he straightened it. "We'l be happy when you're awake again, son," he said. "I'm sure your team is ready for you to come back whenever you're ready." He paused as Daniel kicked the sheet off again. "Okay so you don't like that. So we'll keep it off. Colonel O'Neill said he's reading a book to you, so let's continue with that."

George looked up as he turned a page only to see a pair of confused blue eyes staring at him. Daniel's mouth worked and a frown appeared on his forehead.

"Doctor Jackson? Daniel?" George asked and then hit the call button.

* * * *

"He's not making much sense yet," Janet said as she walked with SG-1 through the halls. "So don't overload him with too much chatter. He can respond to yes and no questions. One blink for yes, 2 for no. Don't put pressure on him to respond verbally. He can become agitated. It's not personal—just overstimulation."

SG1 nodded and she made a mental note to have Jason in the room while they visited to monitor Daniel. There'd be time later to speak to them about Daniel's recovery—and rehab. She knew in her heart that they wanted Daniel to simply get out of bed and walk and re-join SG1. She knew that wasn't going to be possible for months, if ever. Despite not speaking in any semblance of the English language, all the mental tests they'd performed indicated Daniel was as alert as ever. His brain, for lack of a better term, hadn't come fully online yet. She was concerned about his disordered movements. Definitely was going to need therapy to bring back those small muscles in his hands and certainly learning to walk was going to be a major part of therapy, but she wasn't going to tell SG1 all that just yet. Let them see for themselves that Daniel was back.

* * * *

"Daniel," Sam said. She wiped his eyes with a tissue. "It's okay."

"Not," Daniel said. "It is not." He pushed the tray away. "Not going to get out."

"You are," she said. "You're making progress."

He frowned. "Slow progress."

"But progress," Sam said. She pushed the tray back. "You need to eat." She picked up the spoon.

He shook his head. "Go away. You, Sam, go away." 

Sam looked at Jason, helpless. He nodded. 

"Let's get you cleaned up, Daniel," he said. "And then we'll eat."

Sam sighed and went out the door. She closed it behind her, watched as Jason attached the spoon to Daniel's splinted hand and helped him guide the spoon to his mouth. She felt tears fill her eyes. She should be grateful—she wanted him to come back, wanted him back, all of him. But it was hard watching him struggle and she cursed herself for her selfishness. Be happy he's alive, she thought. Be happy you have him at all.

* * * *

"Three more steps, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said. He walked alongside the parallel bars as Daniel made his slow progress. ColonelDenning smiled up at him from her wheeled stool. She reached out and adjusted Daniel's leg.

"You...said...that...three steps back," Daniel panted, but he focused on the end of the bars and took another step.

"You have made much progress," Teal'c said. "Two days ago, you could not stand unaided."

"Yeah," Daniel said but he put down his head and refused to look at Teal'c. 

Daniel Jackson had encouraged him when he'd suffered from injury. He always had unwavering faith in his teammates. This time, however, it seemed that his friend needed to put more faith in his own abilities. If that was not possible, Teal'c thought, then he would need to continue to believe that Daniel lJackson would return to SG1—to return to his team, to the people who needed him more than he knew. Teal'c had known many warriors in his lifetime and of all he knew, Daniel Jackson had proven the bravest of all.

"One more step," Teal'c said and nodded when Daniel Jackson achieved his goal. He reached out and helped to lower his friend into his wheelchair. "I knew you would succeed," he said and placed a hand on his friend's bowed head.

* * * *

Jack motioned for Carter and Teal'c to keep an eye on Daniel as he wandered through the temple. As first missions went, this was a cake walk—a simple visit back to a planet they already knew was safe. 

"Jack," Daniel said.

"Yes, Daniel?" Jack kept his distance. 

"I don't need babysitters," Daniel said. Carter and Teal'c looked back at Jack, Carter bringing up her shoulders in a shrug.

"Okay," Jack said. "Teal'c, Carter—guard the perimeter." Jack took their place.

Daniel turned to him and scowled. "I don't need a guard either," he said. He turned his attention back to his notebook where he was scribbling something.

"Not guarding you," Jack said. "I'm keeping an eye on you."

Daniel rolled his eyes when he looked back. "I am perfectly capable of walking through a temple and recording its writings." He sighed. "I passed every test I needed to be able to rejoin the team, so please, go. Find something else to look at instead of me." Daniel stalked off and Jack backed away.

Forgive me for being a bit over-protective he wanted to say, but he knew that wouldn't come across very well. He still closed his eyes some nights and saw Daniel's body in the infirmary that horrible night when they thought he'd died. They'd never quite figured out just how those weapons had worked although they'd all been packed off to Area 52. Maybe someone would figure it out some day. As for Daniel, Jack was grateful that he'd woken up with his last memories three weeks before the ill-fated mission. Hence their trip back here to let Daniel fill in the blanks from the one mission that had taken place between the two. 

Jack called for Daniel to finish up after a few hours and they started their way back to the Gate. Teal'c was on point, Carter close behind, while Jack took Daniel's six. It had started raining and the ground, clay-like, was slippery enough that they had to watch each step.

He saw it happen before he could stop it—Daniel went to step across a rivulet cutting across their path and his left foot slipped and he went sliding down.

"Carter! Teal'c!" Jack called, already making his way down the hill where Daniel had fallen. "Daniel's down."

"And Daniel is fine," Daniel said when Jack got to his side. He stood up despite Jack's telling him no and started up the hill.

"Stubborn bas..." Jack muttered.

"I heard that," Daniel said without turning around. "Forget it and let's just get home."

Jack resisted the urge to kick the very luscious ass he followed all the way back to the Gate. Whatever god there was, save him from a pissed off Daniel Jackson.

Daniel's frostiness didn't end after the post mission physical or shower, nor did it end through the de-brief where Daniel presented information in a concise manner and spoke only when addressed directly.

"So," Jack said after Hammond left, "pizza or steak?"

"Neither," Daniel said. "I have some things I need to take care of here." He gathered his folders and left the briefing room leaving Jack standing open-mouthed after him.

"Well forgive me for caring," Jack said to Daniel's retreating back. He wished Daniel would turn—he could order him to. Who was he kidding? He'd never been successful at ordering Daniel to do anything.

* * * *

"Your assignment to SG-8 is approved, Doctor Jackson," General Hammond said. He came around his desk, sat down in the chair beside Daniel. "I can't help but think this is a mistake, son."

Daniel looked at him, or, rather, Hammond corrected, Daniel looked through him. "It's not a mistake. I feel my skills will be more useful on an archaeological team." He smiled—or at least made a semblance of one, "Thank you for your help, sir."

"Have you spoken to Colonel O'Neill about this?"Hammond asked. 

"No." Oh this was not good, Hammond thought—he hadn't seen that ducked head and self hug in a long long time. "I felt it best that I handle everything through official channels."

"I'll take care of it, Doctor Jackson," Hammond said. 

"Thank you, sir," Daniel said again and held out his hand. "I appreciate it."

Hammond returned the handshake and watched Daniel leave his office and then he emailed Colonel O'Neil to tell him he was needed as soon as possible.

* * * *

Jack watched Daniel eating his lunch with the rest of SG-8. He had to admit Daniel certainly looked happy. He laughed at something Doctor Reist said and then said something that had Colonel Travers grin and hit him on the shoulder before they all got up to leave.

"SG-8 has a mission at 1300," Teal'c said. "P2L-001."

"MALP showed signs of an extensive settlement twelve klicks from the Gate," Carter chimed in. She pushed her tray away. "I still don't understand why Daniel left us."

The hurt in her voice cut into Jack. He felt the same way. 

"He won't tell me or Teal'c anything," Carter continued. "Sir, did you try to get him to explain?"

"At least he talks to you," Jack said and hoped none of his hurt came through. He didn't mention the ignored emails, the voice mails that were never returned, the unanswered texts. Hell, he didn't even get an acknowledgment from Daniel if they passed each other in the hallways. He'd known Daniel could get angry but this went beyond anything he ever thought Daniel would do. He'd even gone to Doctor Fraiser to ask if Daniel's behavior was some sort of leftover damage from everything he'd gone through, if maybe when he'd spent time dead or nearly so, some minuscule part of his brain had been damaged. He didn't like it when she looked at him and told him that Daniel was perfectly fine because that meant that Daniel knew exactly what he was doing.

Doctor Pyanchuk was an adequate linguist, but she wasn't Daniel, and quite frankly, she didn't fit in the team dynamic. Somehow Jack didn't think Hammond would approve a third linguist in as many weeks. No, they'd just have to make do until Daniel got over whatever had gotten him in a snit.

But damn it, he couldn't blot out how happy Daniel looked when he was with SG-8, when he came back through the Gate with his team dirty and tired. He waved at Carter and Teal'c as they left and took a sip of coffee before he realized he'd put sugar in it just like Daniel always did. Jack checked his watch. Good, there was still time to go watch SG-8 go through the Gate.

 

* * * * 

"I want you to take it easy the next few days, Daniel," Janet said. "I'm sure you are going to feel every single one of those bruises tomorrow." She patted his knee. "And Colonel Travers is going to be fine. He came through the surgery and is resting comfortably. Doctor Reist and Major Young are already on their way home. I expect you to be headed there too as soon as I release you."

Daniel nodded. Hell, he'd feel those bruises tomorrow? Some were already making their presence known quite well, thank you very much. "Is it okay if I check on Marc?"

Janet sighed and gave in. "I'll give you five minutes. And if he's sleeping, then no, you aren't waiting until he wakes up. Five minutes and then I will be checking to make sure you are signed out."

"Got it, Janet," Daniel said. He wished he'd be able to hop off the bed, but there was no way that was happening. He just needed to make sure Marc Travers was okay—put his mind to rest.

"Hey," Marc gave a half-hearted wave from his bed. 

"I see Janet's already given you the happy juice," Daniel said as he took in Marc's slightly dazed look.

"Yep, feeling no pain," Marc told him. "And Jackson—good work out there. Didn't think those Perrens would be quite so inhosp...inhop....mean."

"You rest, Marc," Daniel told him. "I'll see you in a couple days."

Marc nodded and closed his eyes. "Night night, don't let bedbugs bite."

Daniel smothered a laugh and left. Home, hot shower, ice pack on the right knee, some place, any place that would deliver, and a night watching crappy TV sounded just about right. 

"Doctor Jackson?" 

Daniel turned slowly. It was Walter.

"I'm sorry, sir, but General Hammond has requested your presence in the Gate room."

* * * *

Ow, ow, and double ow. Daniel shifted in the chair. They really needed to get more comfortable chairs in the control room. "Yes, we understand," he told the Lorenzan representative on the other side of the wormhole. "And we apologize most sincerely for our representatives' exuberance. I will make sure they are suitably admonished."

"Doctor Jackson? Do you mind sharing?" General Hammond said.

"Oh," Daniel said as the wormhole closed and SG-3's code came through. "There was a party, and SG-3 got a little carried away. The Lorenzan wanted to make sure we were aware of the breach in protocol."

"They got drunk?" Hammond asked as SG-3 came through the Gate.

Daniel looked at the team currently holding their heads and closing their eyes against the light. "Evidently—and it looks like they have some terrible hangovers."

Hammond nodded. "I'll take care of it." He leaned forward. "SG-3, welcome home." 

Was General Hammond smirking? Daniel could swear it was a smirk at the pained glances SG-3 cast upward.

"Son, I'm sure you want nothing more than to get home. Doctor Fraiser said you probably weren't going to be too comfortable. Would you like an airman to drive you home?"

Daniel shook his head as he got to his feet. "Thankfully I sprung for heated seats when I bought my last car." He tried very hard not to limp as he walked out of the room with the general. He had to give it to Janet---the bruises were hurting more as time passed., and he'd caught his reflection in a monitor in all its technicolor glory. But he was off for two days and yeah he was sure he could find enough crappy TV to watch.

"Hello Doctor Jackson," the man in the lab coat said when he got on the elevator.

It took Daniel a moment to pull up the man's name. "Doctor Canning," he said. "Elias."

"Ouch," Elias said. "That looks rather painful."

Daniel thought of shrugging and then remembered that would probably hurt like hell. "Painful but hey, I'm alive, right?" 

"Yeah," Elias said and quickly looked away. He pushed another button. "I, uh, just remembered I forgot..." The cab stopped and Elias stepped out. "Good seeing you."

Okay that was weird, Daniel thought. Then again, Elias did work in the morgue—probably enough to make anyone a little bugged out. For the briefest of moments, he wished Jack or Sam or Teal'c was by his side so he could comment on the behavior to them, but SG-1 was off-world and besides he hadn't seen them in a few weeks. It was better this way. They were never going to accept him again. New start, new team, new life.

* * * *

There would have been a time in his life when two days alone would have been bliss, Daniel thought, but now...now his life seemed empty.

Going somewhere to pick up take-out was out of the question—wouldn't want to scare any underpaid kid with his very colorful black eye. Besides, he hurt too much to want to do anything. He looked at the chess set on his coffee table, still set up from a game he'd started with Jack months ago.

He wondered if SG-1 was home yet. He tried to remember when their mission was supposed to end. He could try to call Sam. She'd talk to him. As for Jack—well he was pretty sure he'd burnt that bridge. 

Sure, all of SG-1 had treated him like he was made of fragile glass after his injury and illness, but they, of all people, knew there was no way General Hammond would have ever let him back in the field if he hadn't been one hundred percent. Hell, he'd even done better than when he'd first been on SG-1. He just hadn't been able to take it any longer—the constant being watched over. And his fall on their last mission together when Jack had acted like an over-protective mother had been the last straw. They hadn't seen him as Daniel Jackson-equal teammate. He'd been Daniel Jackson-weak link. No, he was sure he made the right decision. At least Marc let him do his thing without being constantly watched. Or in Jack's case, also being constantly annoying. 

There was some guy talking about some amazing new kitchen gadget and the audience was oohing and aahing. And damn if the guy didn't look like Jack. Granted Daniel didn't have on his glasses because the frame rested right on the most tender part of his black eye, but the guy had gray hair like Jack. Daniel turned the TV off in disgust. And Jack didn't have gray hair—he had silver hair Daniel corrected himself. Jack and Sam and Teal'c had been with him as he recovered—coming in whenever they could even as they continued with their other duties. 

He smiled as he remembered Teal'c teaching him some Jaffa training routines to bring back the strength in his legs, and Sam inviting him into her lab where she gave him all kinds of small gadgets to tinker with even though he had no idea what he was doing that rebuilt the strength in his fingers better than any therapy the doctors were prescribing. And Jack—Jack had been there when he lay in the infirmary at night sure he'd never be able to come back, telling him that he was closer to the goal every day, every minute. 

And for what, Daniel thought. He'd thrown it all back in their faces. He should have talked to them. More importantly he should have talked to Jack. There was the rub, wasn't it? Jack, it always came back to Jack. Thorn in his side, Jack was. 

Daniel sighed and got up, managed to suppress a groan. He looked in his fridge and closed it just as quickly. There was still that horrible swill Jack called beer in there and not much else. He dug in his junk drawer and pulled out a bunch of folded and stained take-out menus. He closed his eyes and picked one at random. Okay, looked like he was getting Italian tonight but first a long hot shower and a couple of ibuprofen.

* * * *

Jack juggled the six pack of soda, the pizza box, and the tray of lasagna as he rang Daniel's doorbell. Maybe this wasn't the best idea, Jack thought, but seeing Marc Travers in the infirmary after he'd had his post mission check up had given him some very interesting information. 

"He got us all out of there, took a beating for it, but got us out in the end" Marc said. "There I was, down with an arrow in my shoulder, and Jackson walks right into the fray with not a thought for himself. He didn't even hesitate." Marc shook his head. "Why'd you ever let him go, Jack?"

Why had he? Why hadn't he fought tooth and nail to get Daniel back on his team? Why hadn't he simply had it out with him? Maybe it was that whole walking into the fight without a thought for himself thing? Then again, had Daniel not done it, neither he nor Carter nor Teal'c would be alive to be fretting over him.

"Open up," Jack started to say just as Daniel opened the door and stared at him.

A very bruised and battered Daniel from the looks of it. Jack pushed past him and headed straight to the kitchen counter to deposit the food.

"Love the black eye," Jack commented while Daniel continued to stare at him. "And the bruises around the throat—nice necklace." He opened the cupboard over Daniel's sink—the one where Daniel kept the good dishes and pulled out two. "Sit." He motioned towards the bar stool.

The doorbell rang again and Jack watched as Daniel went to the door and came back with a bag labeled DeRocco's. 

"It'll keep," Jack said and took it from him. "Sit. I brought lasagna."

Daniel ignored him and finally crossed his arms over his chest. He gave Jack a very familiar look---it was his pissed off one.

"Uh, I don't seem to remember inviting you into my house," Daniel said. "I have my own food, thank you very much." 

Jack made a show of looking in Daniel's fridge. "Yeah, big selection you got there."

"You don't seem to understand, Colonel O'Neill. So let me put it in even smaller words for you. Get out."

Jack put up a finger and wagged it back and forth. "If I go I'm taking my lasagna." He held up a laden plate. 

"What are you doing here?" Daniel asked and shifted his weight.

Ah curious Daniel—that was good. Curious meant there was an opening. 

"Can't a friend bring another friend dinner?" Jack said and put the plate down on the counter.

"I didn't know we were still friends," Daniel commented. 

"Who was the one who decided to leave?" Jack shot back.

"Who was the one who decided I was incapable of being on SG-1?"

"I never said that," Jack said. He knew he hadn't. Where had Daniel ever gotten that idea?

"Not in words," Daniel said. He stepped closer. "Tell me, Colonel O'Neill, did you enjoy being a babysitter? Was it necessary to follow me everywhere? Was it necessary to make sure you told Janet of every mis-step? Necessary to have Sam and Teal'c split my watch because you thought me incompetent? I know I was out of commission for a time..."

"Out of commission?" Jack used every bit of his extra two inches to get into Daniel's space. "Try dead. Try god-damn dead. " And then he took a step back because of all the things he'd wanted to come out of his mouth, those were not the words.

He watched color drain from Daniel's face as confusion replaced anger. Daniel swayed slightly and Jack reached out to grab his upper arms.

"Ow," Daniel said, pulling back and nearly toppling over off-balance. "What have you kept from me?"

* * * *

Daniel needed to sit down—he put out a hand behind him to find the bar stool.

"Maybe the sofa?" Jack suggested and Daniel nodded, walked numbly to his living room and lowered himself gently onto the cushions.

He knew he'd lost a good chunk of time. A mission where they'd been captured by a minor Goa'uld and then nothing until he woke up from what he was told was a ten day coma. Sure he had read a report on the mission where he had claimed sanctuary for SG-1 but remembering it? That was a big fat no. 

"Maybe it's time you tell me what happened," Daniel said. He raised a hand to rub his forehead and aborted the movement when his shoulder twinged and his eye throbbed. 

Jack shook his head. "Doctor Fraiser--"

"Doctor Fraiser isn't living this, is she?" Daniel snapped. He tried to put pieces together—his team's solicitousness, Elias' reaction, everyone seeming to walk on eggshells. 

"What *can* you remember?" Jack said. He handed Daniel a glass of water and sat down beside him.

"Waking up," Daniel said. "I was in the infirmary and people kept asking me to squeeze their hand or open my eyes." He looked at Jack. "And then you. You were there and said everything was going to be okay." 

Jack studied the beer bottle he held. "Yeah."

"Janet says my not remembering is normal, because of the trauma. But—I need to know. You, of all people, know I need to know." Daniel took a gulp of water. "I've lost 56 days and I think I deserve them back." He put down the glass. "Please."

Jack rolled the beer bottle between his hands and Daniel waited. Finally Jack nodded.

"Teal'c found you at the DHD," he said and then Daniel listened while Jack filled him in on those missing weeks—through the first surgeries and then his downhill slide.

"They brought you up from the morgue," Jack said, his voice hoarse. "Your temp was down."

 

Daniel shuddered involuntarily and blindly reached for the throw at the other end of the cushions. Jack grabbed it, wrapped it around his shoulders.

"But not enough," Jack continued. "That was why Canning started thinking you weren't dead or had been dead and come back to life somehow. That and your body wasn't getting stiff."

Daniel swallowed hard. He wasn't sure he really wanted to know every detail any longer. 

"Carter thought—she was working on still trying to figure out why you died—and she, we, were afraid Canning had already--" Jack paused, and Daniel saw his hands shaking. But he pulled himself straight and continued. "They started doing all sorts of tests, tried to get you to wake up and then Fraiser told us you were alive but in a coma and she didn't know if--"

Jack picked up the beer bottle again. He stared at the glass, his eyes unfocused. "And we, I, I was so selfish that my first thought was I don't care if he never wakes up as long as he's alive and I still have him with me." He shook his head.

"Jack," Daniel began and then stopped as he noticed Jack's eyes were bright.

"And then, when you did wake up, I---you needed so much help. To regain so much."

"You were there," Daniel said softly. "You were with me."

Jack stood up, his face an impassive mask once again. "So there you have it." He headed back to the kitchen. "I'll heat up the lasagna for you and get going."

"Jack." Daniel followed him, the throw trailing him because he could not get warm. "Jack."

Jack busied himself at the oven, put in the tray, and grabbed a sponge to clean non-existent sauce from the counter.

"Jack," Daniel said again and placed a hand on Jack's back. "Damn it. I'm trying to say I'm sorry."

Jack hunched his shoulders. "You were fucking dead and I never had the chance to--"

He'd been blind. All those years and he'd been blind. "Look at me," Daniel said. He tugged on Jack's arm, forced him to turn. 

"I couldn't---" Jack said and Daniel shook his head.

He pulled Jack to him, covered his mouth, forced his tongue between clenched teeth and sighed as Jack's hands came up to his face.

Jack pushed Daniel back until he was against the dishwasher, the handle digging into his left hip. "God," Jack said and he pulled at Daniel's t-shirt.

Daniel took a breath, undid Jack's belt, slipped his fingers under the waistband and felt smooth warm skin.

Jack's hands were on his hips and Daniel covered them to help push down his pajama pants. He gasped as Jack touched his erection. 

"Lube," Jack said and Daniel fumbled on the counter until he grabbed a bottle of olive oil.

He managed to get the cap off and poured the liquid into his hand, smeared it over Jack's hand. Jack began to stroke him and Daniel rose on his toes as the sensation overtook him. He fumbled at Jack's khakis until he had his hands on Jack. Jack buried his head in Daniel's neck, licked the sweaty skin, and Daniel panted while Jack pumped harder and harder. He yelled as he climaxed and felt himself sliding to the floor, pulling Jack with him.

He placed his hand on Jack's cheek, rubbed his thumb over tears. "I'm sorry."

Jack shook his head, placed a kiss in his palm and Daniel resisted the very strong urge to close it into a fist and never open it again. "We're both idiots."

Daniel snorted and closed his eyes, let his head lean back against the door. "I don't think I can move." And then there was simply the silence of them breathing.

Jack got to his feet with a grunt and reached down. Daniel grabbed his hand, slick with oil, and moved his fingers up—higher onto a strong forearm, let Jack pull him up.

"Shower," Jack said. "And I hope you have decent towels. Not like those ratty ones you bought from the thrift store before."

Daniel swayed on his feet and followed Jack.

* * * *

"Shit," Jack said as the smoke alarm blared. "Ugh." He waved a towel as if that would dissipate the smoky air in the kitchen. "Guess we aren't going to have lasagna."

Daniel peered over his shoulder at the now charred pan in his oven. "Guess not." He pointed at the ceiling. "You mind getting that?" He had an arm wrapped around his ribs. Jack winced in sympathy. He'd seen the bruises in all their glory in the shower they'd shared. Daniel had to be hurting.

By the time he managed to shut it off, Daniel had wandered away and he found him in the living room, zonked out on the sofa, one arm hanging off the edge and his neck at an angle that promised more pain.

"Daniel." Jack shook his shoulder and winced in sympathy when Daniel tried to sit up straight. "Bed."

"You?" Daniel asked as he gained his feet.

"Always," Jack said and followed his slow progress to the bedroom. He laughed as Daniel flopped onto the bed. He lay down next to him, smiled when Daniel lay his head on his chest. 

"Jack?"

 

"I am sorry," Daniel said, "but I need--"

Jack put a finger over his lips. "I know. I need to be a bit less protective."

"Well yeah, there is that," Daniel said, "but I was going to say I need to take a piss and you're hogging all the blankets."

Jack sighed and shifted away as Daniel got up.

"There," Jack said when Daniel came back—made a show of holding the blanket so Daniel got the lion's share.

Daniel got in, grabbed even more of the blanket and sighed. "So—we need to talk."

"I thought we already did that whole talking thing," Jack said.

"I think it was more of a fuck each other senseless thing," Daniel said and sat up. 

Jack groaned. "Now? You want to talk now?"

Daniel looked down at him and then put on his glasses. "About SG-1."

"I'm listening," Jack said and closed his eyes. Daniel jabbed him in the ribs. "Ow." He sighed and bunched up a pillow before sitting up. "I'm all yours."

"I hope so," Daniel said. "I don't want us to just be fuck buddies." 

"I thought you wanted to talk about SG-1." 

"Yeah, about that. I'm not ready to come back. Not yet." Daniel looked sad when he said it.

"Maybe not ever," Jack continued for him.

Daniel nodded. "Maybe not." He looked away from Jack. "I like being on SG-8 and Marc--"

"Doesn't treat you like you're gonna break?" Jack guessed. 

"Well yeah, and he also doesn't interrupt me when I'm talking." Daniel took off his glasses and snuggled down in the blankets. He put a hand out, rested it on Jack's hip, and closed his eyes.

Jack sat in the growing darkness and watched Daniel sleep. He'd take what he could get.

* * * *

Jack twirled a pencil as Carter continued droning on about the technology on P5R-022 and their upcoming mission. General Hammond at least looked interested.

"Sorry I'm late." Daniel came in, juggling a travel mug of coffee and a huge stack of file folders.

"Daniel!" Sam smiled and took his folders. Heaven forbid she'd touch the coffee, Jack thought.

"Welcome back to SG-1, Doctor Jackson," General Hammond said with a grin that told Jack old George and Daniel had been plotting for weeks.

"It is most reassuring that you have rejoined our team," Teal'c said and bowed slightly.

"Thanks," Daniel said. "Hi, Jack."

Jack rolled his eyes. As if he and Daniel hadn't showered together before they'd each driven to the mountain in separate cars. "Glad you could join us."

Daniel ignored him as only Daniel could.

"Doctor Jackson, do you have any input on P5R-022?" General Hammond asked. 

"As a matter of fact," Daniel said and handed out folders. "I do."

Jack groaned and put his head on the table. 

"Pay attention, Jack," Daniel said in his ear. 

"Is there gonna be a test? And can we just skip to all the stuff that's going to be on it?" Jack looked at Hammond.

Daniel gave him a well-aimed kick on his shin.

"I'm listening, I'm listening," Jack said and sat back. "Pray enlighten me, Doctor Jackson."

"My pleasure, Colonel O'Neill," Daniel said while Sam groaned. "Everyone ready?"

Jack opened his folder and grinned as Daniel launched into his presentation. His team, with its heart returned, was finally complete.


End file.
